


Stolen Dance

by oftypewritersandribbons



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Clint is a man of many talents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftypewritersandribbons/pseuds/oftypewritersandribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one could ever accuse Darcy Lewis of being shy. But after the alcohol fuelled events of a misspent Friday night, 'Avoid Hawkeye At All Costs' soon became her watchwords. That, and Natasha and Clint were definitely bonking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics taken from the song Stolen Dance by Milky Chance.

“I want you  
We can bring it on the floor  
You've never danced like this before  
We don't talk about it  
Dancing on, do the boogie all night long

Stoned in paradise

Shouldn't talk about it”

* * *

The former SHIELD agent known as Hawkeye was renowned for his penchant for purple, pointy projectiles and fast women. Or that’s what the tabloids said at least. The purple accents to his Avenger’s uniform, in between sentences discussing his painfully obvious fallibility and great biceps, were often cited as proof for his appreciation of the colour. One look at his weapon of choice, and another more lingering glance at the red head, evidence enough of the other two factoids.

 

As for the rest of the Avengers, weekly in-depth columns ranging from the ethical and geopolitical implications of a superhero squad based out of midtown New York, to ‘Just Who Are They Sleeping With?’ were written with equal parts vitriol and sycophancy.

 

Captain America had quickly skyrocketed to number one on pretty much every magazines ‘most hottest’ list. His eyes, whilst full of steely determination, apparently betrayed a need to find a woman he could enjoy the simple pleasures of life with. As well as his many attributes, including kicking bad guy ass, Steve Rogers was something of an artist. That coupled with his baby blues had pretty much made him the most desirable man in North America.

 

Tony Stark was a phenomenon unto himself. There were some corners of the Internet that housed a select few individuals who found themselves firmly on Team Hulk. And the enigmatic red head now graced the bedroom walls of boys and girls alike.

 

And Thor? Well he was pretty much a walking god. Several cosmetic companies had tried to reach him in regards to a hair product endorsement. The same could be said for every talent agent in the city. Who wouldn’t want this guy on their books? Thor had the unique ability to make capes look good, he wielded a hammer imbued with magical properties and he could call down a literal lightning storm. That, and the guy was _cut_.

 

Darcy Lewis slowly lowered the Daily Bugle, her eyes raking the headline before her brow creased in disgust. Taking an appreciative sip of her coffee she rose from her seat as the subway car juddered to a halt. Stepping out into the station and making her way above ground, the giant skyscraper that served as the Avengers’ base of operations and a testament towards Tony Stark’s ego greeted her. Another fortifying sip of coffee and she was headed towards security.

 

Jane having been enticed away by Stark Industries was now safely ensconced in Avengers Tower. Now that she was actually in possession of funding Jane had been able to employ a genuine assistant who could actually keep up with the science and wrangle Jane into maintaining her five a day. Darcy whilst sad to say goodbye to her days running after unexplained spatial anomalies in London was starting her postgrad degree at Columbia. It seemed like she had only just got done with signing the monumental stack of NDAs when the news broke that SHEILD was done. Systemic corruption and a plot to wipe out half of DC’s population followed by the largest intelligence leak since Edward Snowden and everything had gone to hell. Congressional hearings followed as the world demanded answers.

 

Darcy slumped against the elevator wall, coffee never far from her lips with her headphones firmly in place, ears assailed by the frenetic strumming of Pete Townshend.

“Welcome back Ms. Lewis,” sounded the disembodied voice of Tony Stark’s AI as the elevator doors pinged open. 

“Thanks Jarvis.” Darcy plucked out her ear buds and quickly shucked off her coat before looping the cream mac over her arm. Heading towards the lab Jane now occupied Darcy attempted to down the rest of her drink, furtively scoping out the empty hallways.

“Here to see Jane?”

“Jesus H. Christ! Where the _fuck_ did you come from?” Darcy spluttered, desperately trying to clear her throat as she attempted to swallow her now tepid coffee.

“Air vent,” Hawkeye shrugged carelessly. “So….”

“It was nice seeing you Clint,” Darcy quickly interrupted the archer, her grey eyes wide. Backing towards one of the doors leading into Jane’s lab she began scrabbling frantically with the handle, finally she managed to push the door open. “Jane is expecting me, so I’ll see you around. Enjoy your ninja-ing.”

“Yeah, see you...” Hawkeye replied, somewhat nonplussed.

 

Whatever Clint might have said went unheard as Darcy stumbled into Jane’s lab, the scientist glancing up from the figures she was reading, one elegant eyebrow raised in question.

“Enjoy your ninja-ing?” Darcy muttered under her breath, brow furrowed as she walked towards the sitting Jane. “Enjoy your ninja-ing? I couldn’t have come up with anything else?”

“Dare I ask?” Jane questioned, picking at a cold pop tart as she jotted down a few errant thoughts in the margins.

Darcy groaned, sliding onto a wooded stool and slumping over the granite workbench. “Nff…”

“You’re gonna have to try using words Darce,” Jane replied, not unkindly, as she moved one of Darcy’s stray limbs to regain access to her papers.

“Remember that time we went out for drinks and you got so wasted Steve had to carry you to the cab?” Darcy mumbled into her arm, hair tumbling across her shoulders and obscuring her vision. Just as well, she wasn’t sure she could handle actually seeing Jane.

“Vaguely,” Jane hummed, a faint pink tinge creeping into her cheeks.

“Well, whilst I wasn’t paralytic, I wasn’t exactly alert and of sober mind.” Darcy pushed herself into a sitting position, shoving her errant locks from out of her face.

“And?” Jane nodded encouragingly, brown eyes pinning down steely grey.

“Just to be clear, this – right here – is a judgment free space.” Darcy intoned, gesturing emphatically between the scientist and herself.

“Absolutely no judgment!” Jane held up her hands in mock surrender. “No mocking or derision will follow whatever it is that you tell me.”

Darcy sighed, “So you know I have a thing about arms and butts…”

“Barton? Seriously?” Jane exclaimed.

“I thought you said no judgment?” Darcy shot back accusingly. “And how did you know it was him?”

“The first time you met him you touched his bicep and claimed you were compelled to do it in the name of Science! That, and I’ve seen your desktop.” Jane replied matter-of-factly.

Darcy opened her mouth but quickly shut it, raising her hands in defeat.

“So, did you lick his face or something?” Jane questioned.

“What are we in grade school?” Darcy groaned. “I did not lick his face.”  
  
“You slept with him?” Jane spluttered, finally putting down her pen.

“Jesus Jane! Is that how it works with you, it’s either I licked a guy’s face or I had sex with him. Says a lot.”

Jane rolled her eyes, “So what, if not the exchange of bodily fluids, then?”

Darcy huffed, “We danced.”

“Oh.” Jane nodded. “’Is that a gun or are you just pleased to see me’ scenario? I guess that could be kind of awkward.”

“We _danced_ Jane. I mean, we actually danced, we didn’t just blindly dry hump each other – not that I’m adverse to that necessarily. Apparently he had to go undercover in Argentina once and the tango’s still danced there socially.”

“So he was good?” Jane leant forward, eyes wide.

“You have no idea. His hands…” Darcy broke off, her eyes gaining a misty quality.

“Hey!” Jane snapped, tapping Darcy on the arm. “If I’m not allowed to have sex flashbacks in your presence then you, under no uncertain terms, are allowed to fantasize about what you want Barton’s hands to do to you.”

“Oh the boat has so sailed with that one,” Darcy chuckled before quickly sobering. “We didn’t even kiss and then I had to get you home, so I kinda just left. I haven’t exactly spoken to him since.”  
  
“Bar from this afternoons altercation?” Jane clarified.

“Yes,” Darcy sighed. “Besides, the Daily Bugle is pretty sure Clint’s into _fast women_ and Natasha. So, whatever…”

“Fast women? Seriously? What is this, the fifties?” Jane shook her head, forcing herself back on track. “And are you sure Natasha and Clint are?”

“Having red hot monkey sex? Absolutely. She’s just so bendy, and scary.”

“Have you asked him?” Jane questioned sagely.

“Asked him? Of course not! It’s not something you drop casually into conversation. ‘So where was that Thai place you were telling me about? And are you having crazy hot person sex with the Black Widow?’” Darcy exhaled her breath sharply through her nose, sending Jane a disbelieving look.  “You are so lucky Thor isn’t from Earth.”

Jane shrugged, “You should ask him.”

“See, this is why I can’t ask you for relationship advice. You literally ran over your boyfriend, which is one hell of a meet cute by the way. Then you batted your eyelashes, got enthusiastic over Science! and you two totally fell in love. I think this may have skewed your perception on how people get together in real life.”

“And that is?” Jane replied tartly.

“With a healthy does of alcohol and a push up bra.”

Jane rolled her eyes, “Fine, if you’re not going to ask him whether he and Natasha are bonking then at least talk to him.”

“He’s probably busy…”

“Jarvis?”

“Yes Dr. Foster?” The AI responded helpfully.

“Where is Clint now?”

“Hawkguy is currently watching Dog Cops in the communal lounge.”

“Traitor.” Darcy groused just as Jane responded with “Hawkguy?”

“Mr. Stark insisted.”

“Thank you Jarvis. And, clearly he’s not busy, so go!” Jane instructed, flinging out her arm in the direction of the door.

“Fine! I’ll go.” Darcy held up her hands. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

 

Darcy left the comfort of Jane’s lab and headed towards the residential section of Avenger’s tower. Twisting a lock of hair between her fingers she shuffled into the living room, Clint was slumped over the sofa, eyes fixed intently on the screen. Darcy suppressed a sigh; she was going to have to brazen it out. Throwing herself onto the ridiculously large and not to mention comfortable couch she settled into the cushions before sending Clint a sidelong glance.

“Catching up on Dog Cops?”

“Yup,” Clint nodded. “Don’t spoil it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Darcy smiled wickedly.

“Seriously, this will not be a repeat of Game of Thrones.”

“I’m sorry, but it was the Red Wedding – I had to tell someone!”

Clint smiled indulgently before pressing pause on the remote, “So what was that before?”

“What was what?” Darcy replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Enjoy your ninja-ing? I’ve come to expect more from you Lewis.”

“Everyone’s allowed an off day,” Darcy shrugged.

“We’re ok though right?” Clint questioned offhand, but his eyes hid a flicker of something Darcy couldn’t quite place.

Taking in a sharp breath Darcy met Clint’s look, his face was as open as she’d ever seen it, his eyes burning into hers and for a second she considered confessing everything, day time fantasies included. Shuffling awkwardly on the sofa she picked at a loose stich in the upholstery. Biting her lip she let her gaze fall before the words tumbled out unchecked.

“We danced Clint. Totally not fair of you to deploy those sort of moves when you’re bonking Natasha.”

“Bonking?”

“Jane’s influence.”

“We’re not,” Clint muttered.

Darcy’s head snapped back up, not entirely sure she had heard correctly. “But the Daily Bugle…”

“Please don’t tell me you read the Daily Bugle?”

“I sometimes, maybe, use the Sidebar of Shame. And yes, sometimes, maybe, you feature.”

Clint sighed, “So rather than ask, or I dunno, observe, you take an article by the Daily Bugle as gospel?”

Darcy groaned, “No. Not normally. But this one article I read, and I’m not proud to admit, played on the _ridiculous_ insecurities I have about feminine ideals.”

“Darcy.” Clint said, his voice heavy with honesty as his forefinger and thumb gently raised the brunette’s chin. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s just so beautiful and scary. And she speaks a dozen languages and I’m pretty sure she could rule the world if she deigned to try. And the two of you are like in each other’s pockets. I’m pretty sure the Bugle interpreting you watching her six on the battlefield as a public declaration of love is reaching but…”

“She’s my partner Darcy and we love each after a fashion. But we’re not bonking.”

Darcy snorted. “Sorry, it’s one thing Jane saying it, but you’re Clint Barton - Super Spy! It’s a little discordant.”

“Darce, why has this suddenly come up?”

“Because we danced you asshat.” Darcy shoved Clint on the shoulder, her eyes suddenly steely.

“So that worked for you?” Clint replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Worked for me? What do you think? I pretty much groped you in the name of Science! when I first met you. You knew what you were doing, your hands are lethal when deployed correctly…” Darcy paused. “Sorry, totally didn’t mean to allude to your other more specific skill set.”

A full-blown grin of the shit eating variety was now gracing Clint’s features. “Seriously Darce, you talk a lot you know that?”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re one of those ‘I let my actions do the talking’ people aren’t you?” Darcy growled, gesticulating wildly.

“Pretty much,” Clint nodded.

And with very little ceremony, and absolutely no warning, he kissed her.

 

After a few moments Clint pulled away ever so slightly and the loss of sensation suddenly had Darcy feeling bereft. The brunette swallowed slowly, Clint’s hands were cupping her face and she could feel his hot breath against her lips. Reaching up Darcy’s fingers traced the archer’s jawline and the two suddenly surged against one another. Noses bumped together as their lips desperately sought out each other. Falling into Clint, Darcy’s body pressed flush against the hard planes of his chest, she practically purred into his hot and willing mouth.

 

Leaning back Darcy was more than a little pleased to note that Clint was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with want as one hand gripped her hair, his free thumb drifting down to pull at her lower lip.

“So is it safe to say that you want to be bonking me?” Darcy questioned breathlessly.

“Only if you’ll have me,” Clint answered. His brow was furrowed with sincerity as he dropped a chaste kiss against her temple.

“Trust me, I’ll have you on every available surface,” Darcy promised.

“Good to know,” Clint growled.

And his lips captured hers once more.

**Author's Note:**

> My first post on AO3 and my first attempt at posting Clint/Darcy fic. Thoughts and feedback welcome. 
> 
> The Sidebar of Shame relates to the Daily Mail's website. A little bit of me dies each time I go on it.


End file.
